Under Construction: The Revised Marauders
by InsaneSidNPyx
Summary: This plot is based on a single “What if. . .” question - what if, instead of Slytherin, Severus Snape had sorted into Gryffindor house, and the opposite for Peter Pettigrew? We’ll never know what would have happened, but here's our best guess.
1. A morning of blue skies and green ink

Under Construction:  
The Revised Marauders  
  
This plot is largely based around a single "What if. . ." question - what if, instead of being placed in Slytherin, Severus Snape had sorted into Gryffindor house, and the opposite for Peter Pettigrew? We'll never know for sure what would have happened, but based on our assessments of the Marauders' and Severus's characters, here is our best guess. . .  
  
* * *  
  
Five owls set our from the tall stone tower that August night: a barn, a screech, a snowy, a dwarf, and a tawny. Each owl clutched a thick envelope in its talons, making certain not to tear the paper. Soon enough, though, first the barn, and then the rest broke off from the small "flock." After each had delivered its parcel, it found a nice, safe tree or the like to wait until it knew that its job had been accomplished. . .  
  
* * *  
  
Lily Evans stretched and opened her eyes, blinking blearily in the late morning light. Although she was allowed to sleep in during the summer holidays, she had never been able to stand staying abed much later than nine. Despite the fact that she would have liked to wake up slowly and revel in the summer calm, she knew with a glance at the clock (9:17) that if she didn't get up soon, the calm would be broken by her sister's shrill yells for Lily to rise.  
  
With a sigh she sat up and swung her legs out of bed. Grabbing a hair tie from her night table, she pulled her just-past-shoulder-length red hair into a ponytail and donned a T-shirt. She had just begun debating with herself whether the hot weather would permit jeans when a young female voice rang through the house.  
  
"Lily! Get out of bed already! Do you know how late it is?"  
  
"Yes, I do, Petunia," Lily hollered in response, hopping a little to pull her pants up. She flung open the door of her bedroom and came face to face with her blonde sister. "It's precisely nine twenty-six in the morning."  
  
"Oh, so you're not dead after all," Petunia retorted, turning around and walking towards the stairs at the end of the hall. "It's a shame." The redhead chose not to respond to this remark and followed after the younger girl at a more subdued pace. Thumping down the stairs, Lily groaned in exasperation.  
  
"Does nobody get the mail?" She asked no one in particular as she bent to pick up said mail and headed to the kitchen.  
  
Petunia was in the bathroom flossing her teeth when she heard a loud gasp and then a lot of mad-sounding laughter. She rolled her eyes irritatedly up into her head, wondering what had gotten into her maddeningly abnormal sister now. She supposed that it was her sisterly duty to find out, and so she stormed into the kitchen and planted her hands on her hips.  
  
"You're not reading my magazines again, are you?" Petunia accused.  
  
"That trash?" Lily gestured toward a stack of magazines with subjects like celebrity love affairs and 20 ways to get rid of or hide acne glaring across their covers in neon colors. "No, of course not. I learned what filth that is after reading them once. Somebody's just sent me a mail gag, that's all." Lilly held the thick, parchment-like piece of paper out for her younger sister to inspect.  
  
Petunia snatched the letter out of the older girl's hand, muttering under her breath about her magazines not being trash. As she glanced across the green ink, however, she found that for once she had to agree with Lily. All of this blather about a school of witchcraft (with a no less fanciful name than "Hogwarts") had to be some sort of joke. She'd honestly never seen anything like it, though.  
  
"Humph," she sniffed, tossing the letter back at her sister rudely. "Load of nonsense, if you ask me." With that, she turned on her heel and returned to her tooth flossing.  
  
* * *  
  
James Potter was just starting to figure out a way around eating the towering pile of lima beans on his plate when an owl swooped into the dining room. Much to his surprise, however, the official-looking bird did not deposit its message by his father (who was home for lunch break), but in front of him. Curiously, he picked up the thick envelope and inspected it, although he already suspected what it contained. With a surge of adrenaline he opened it, and only a glance at the first line confirmed his guess.  
  
"Yeah!" he exclaimed, shooting up from his seat and holding his fists above his head victoriously (knocking his chair over in the process). "I got in! Dad, I GOT IN!"  
  
His father looked at him slightly quizzically. "Got in? To what?"  
  
"Hogwarts, Dad!" The wild-haired boy shouted ecstatically.  
  
"Surely not," the older man gasped in mock horror. "A son of mine at Hogwarts? Never!" James's grin widened, if at all possible.  
  
"Of course, I could always work for your store, Da," he joked impishly while trying to feed the owl the offending vegetable without being caught. "Become the youngest official prank developer in history..."  
  
"Heavens forbid! Go to this barbaric school of yours! Take my broom! My wand! My money! Anything to keep you out of my store!"  
  
"But father dear," James wiped the smile from his face and pretended to look concerned, "why turn away your best patron?"  
  
"You win!" Mr. Potter declared in false despair. "I am defeated! There is no stopping the terror of James the horrible. Where will it end?"  
  
"It'll end when Fudge beats Mum in the election," the bespectacled boy told him almost seriously. "After all, why elect someone you can eat?" This brought on more gales of laughter, during which time James made certain that the last legume made its way into the ill-looking owl's stomach. He could hardly wait to tell his mother the good news.  
  
* * *  
  
There was daylight streaming in Sirius Black's bedroom window, and there was an annoying tapping noise on the glass in the same direction. Sirius flopped over on his stomach, pulled the blanket up higher, and muttered under his breath, "shut up, shutup, SHUT UP!"  
  
The tapping continued, and something large blocked out a huge chunk of the light. Siir peered over his shoulder at the shape, squinting his eyes and brushing long strands of black hair out of his face.  
  
"D**n owl, waking me up. . ." he grumbled, hauling himself off the bed and slumping over to open the window. A majestic white owl swooped in, dropping a thick envelope into the bleary-eyed boy's hands. It pecked him once on the head for good measure, and then circled back out into the bright summer morning.  
  
Sirius swore at the owl and slammed his window shut. He dropped the letter on his nightstand and was about to climb back into bed when someone knocked on his door.  
  
"It never ends. . ." he growled quietly.  
  
"Sirius? Sirius Black, get up right now or - "  
  
"I'm up, mother," he called. "Just give me a minute to get dressed."  
  
"Hurry up! I've got to - " Mrs. Black began again, cut off this time by the opening of her eldest son's bedroom door.  
  
"See? I'm up. And look - I've got my letter from Hogwarts." He handed the envelope over to his mother, who opened it and pulled out the first sheet of parchment. She glanced at it and nodded briskly.  
  
"Yes. I'll leave you a few Galleons and you and your brother can go to - "  
  
"Actually, I think I'll go to Diagon Alley by myself, thanks," interrupted Sirius. "Regulus is mad at me and would probably run off on purpose."  
  
"Will you stop interrupting me?!" demanded Mrs. Black. "And if you wouldn't set your brother off, the two of you wouldn't have half so many problems. He's really such a little darling, as opposed to some sons of mine." She sniffed disdainfully. "In any case, I'm going to your aunt's house for the afternoon. Don't you dare blow anything up again, do you hear me?"  
  
"Yes, mother," Sirius sighed, as his mother swept off down the stairs. Then he grinned happily - he got to spend the day in Diagon Alley, and his mother had forgotten to forbid him to leave his younger brother at home.  
  
* * *  
  
It wasn't voluntarily that Remus Lupin woke up, but one boy could only sleep for so long. As it was, he felt as if he had been run over by a herd of centaurs. Slowly he opened his eyes and sat up in bed, stretching as much as his sore body would allow. As he slowly became awake enough to be aware of his surroundings, he realized that he was not alone in the room.  
  
"Hello," he told the barn owl, looking at it curiously. After all, he almost never got mail at all, and no owl would want to go into his room. . . would it? "Do I have mail, then?" he asked, more to himself than to the owl. Naturally, he was surprised to find a letter in his lap.  
  
He tore into the envelope eagerly, hardly believing what was happening. As he read the parchment, it took him a moment for reality to sink in. Then he almost forgot his condition and leapt out of bed.  
  
"Mum! Da!" he yelled, tearing down the hallway. From a doorway, two matching shocked faces stared at their elder brother.  
  
"Is he smiling?" Remus heard one - the boy - ask the other, and his grin widened even further. However, he did not stop until he barreled into the kitchen, where his mother was washing dishes. He skidded to a halt before her, noting with a sort of glee the surprise she quickly hid.  
  
"Is something wrong, Remus?" she inquired, just to be on the safe side.  
  
"Mum," he panted happily, "I got in! They're letting me go to Hogwarts!"  
  
* * *  
  
Severus Snape was reading in bed when an owl flew in his open bedroom window. He looked up, blinking at the owl, and realized that it was morning. He'd read through the night again, like he usually did when he was having a restless night and couldn't sleep.  
  
Severus marked his page with a corner of his pillowcase and got out of bed. Stretching stiffly, he took the letter that the owl held in its beak and thanked the bird. It hooted once and flew back out the window.  
  
Sev sat down on the chair of his mahogany desk and carefully tore the flap of the letter open. He pulled out the pieces of parchment that it contained and scanned the first one quickly. A grin began to spread across his face, and he stood up quickly, crossing to the door of his room. With the letter in one hand, Severus, still smiling broadly, took the steps down to the ground floor two at a time. He stopped abruptly in the large, stone- tiled entrance hall, and the smile slipped off of his face.  
  
The boy crossed to the door and pulled down the slightly yellowed paper Spello-Taped to it.  
  
"Severus - " it read. "I've gone to Ms. Fremont's house for the day. Tell the house elves what you want for lunch - there's leftovers from last night, or some ham you can have. I'll be back around dinnertime. ~Mum."  
  
Severus sighed and sat down on the floor. He should have known that his parents wouldn't be home; they never were, after all. He set the Hogwarts letter down on the banister, where his mother would be sure to see it when she came home, and trudged back up the stairs to his room to read some more.  
  
* * * 


	2. A few interesting first encounters

Disclaimer: Why would anyone want to own Harry Potter? I mean, after the way it was mutilated in book 5, I'm surprised that J.K. Rowling wants to own it anymore.  
  
"Rrr. .." James growled irritably, returning a few dungbombs to their proper place. "Stupid kids don't know how to put things away right. . ." He cast his gaze around the store for anything out of place. Finding nothing too terribly gone astray, he deemed himself deserving of a short break. He had, after all, been working for two hours -- since noon -- and although it was worth it just to get paid, working in a joke shop could be exhausting .  
"Hey, got anything new?" someone asked. James turned around to see a boy about his age with longish black hair and gray eyes.  
  
"Well, there are a few smaller items, but nothing worth your time," he told the other lad. "Although I've heard that Da -- er -- Mr. Potter has something big in the works."  
  
"So you're the owner's kid?" James affirmed this with a nod.  
  
"Yeah, it's pretty nice. I get all my supplies here."  
  
"It's a shame that I couldn't try some of these out on my brother," Sirius told him, gazing wistfully at the racks of pranks. James grinned in spite of himself. Although his conversations with this customer were usually short lived, they always left him in a better mood. The funny thing was that he didn't even know the boy's name.  
  
"I wish I could sympathize, but I don't have siblings," the bespectacled boy lamented.  
  
"Trust me, you're a lucky boy," Sirius informed him with a rueful grin. "You want mine? Better yet, take me instead."  
  
James laughed outright at his acquaintance's blunt request. He was about to reply when the sound of something breaking echoed through the store. He winced noticeably and closed his eyes. "Do I want to know what that was?" he muttered, then added more loudly, "I think I'd better take care of that. Later." And preparing himself for the worst, he headed once more into the depths of the shop. . .

----

The Evans family had just finished dinner, and Lily was clearing the table when the doorbell rang. Petunia, poring over her newly delivered magazines in the living room, sighed deeply with annoyance. She hated to be interrupted again, but she was also the one nearest the door, so she stood up and glared at her sister.  
  
"Don't touch my chair," she snapped. She composed her face to look as pleasant as she could in this state of irritation and opened the door. Outside it stood a woman just shy of middle age. She was dressed in a very old-fashioned manner, even with a long cloak in place of the light jackets that most people wore on summer evenings. She looked very prim and proper, and her brown hair was twisted back in a tight bun. She nodded in acknowledgement of Petunia.  
  
"Good evening," she told the girl, who was standing with her mouth agape and a little in awe of this bizarre woman. "My name is Minerva McGonagall. Is this the Evans residence?"  
  
Petunia nodded dumbly, and then cleared her throat and replied, "Yes. May I help you?"  
  
"Are Lily and your parents home, please?" the woman asked. Petunia nodded.  
  
"I'll go get them," she stated, turning around to go fetch them. She found that her sister was already standing behind her looking quizzical.  
  
"Aren't you going to invite Ms. McGonagall in?" asked Lily, for once remembering her manners better than her younger sister did. "Please, ma'am, come in."  
  
"Thank you, Lily," McGonagall replied graciously. "And I prefer Professor McGonagall, if you don't mind." Lily led the woman into the living room that her sister had abandoned and invited her to have a seat. Ironically, she noted that their guest had chosen the chair that Petunia had reminded her not to steal. Lily took a seat on the sofa herself. She cleared her throat to fill the silence.  
  
"So, where do you teach, then?" the redhead asked the professor. Just then, Petunia entered with her parents. McGonagall stood up and shook both of the Evans' hands.  
  
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Evans. My name is Minerva McGonagall," she introduced herself for the second time. "I am the Professor of Transfiguration and Deputy Headmistress at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I-"  
  
"You're joking!" Lily interrupted. "There's no such thing!"  
  
"Lily, don't be rude to our guest," Mrs. Evans scolded her daughter. She herself was looking a bit doubtful, though. "Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. Could I offer you some tea?"  
  
"Thank you, there will be no need," McGonagall told her. "Let me take care of it." As Mrs. Evans opened her mouth to protest or question, the strict- looking professor reached into an inner pocket of her cloak. She pulled out a miniature tea set that looked as if it could be used for dolls and tapped the teapot once with a long, wooden wand. The teapot swelled to the size of a normal tea set as the Evans family gaped. McGonagall then calmly reached into her cloak and pulled out a packet of tealeaves, which she dumped into the pot. She then tapped the pot once again, and a puff of steam issued from the spout.  
  
"Tea, anyone?" she queried mildly, and poured herself a cup. Petunia's eyes bugged out, and she began to sputter.  
  
"But - but - you can't do that. . . It's not possible!" the Evans' youngest daughter wriggled in her seat as she tried to come up with a logical explanation.  
  
"My dear, it is quite possible," McGonagall informed her, holding her teacup daintily. She then turned to address Mr. and Mrs. Evans and Lily. "And the reason that I am here this evening is because your daughter, Lily, should be able to do just that - and a great deal more - after attending our school. Hogwarts is-"  
  
McGonagall was interrupted for the second time that evening by the sound of the loud thump that Lily made, falling out of her seat in a dead faint.

----

Severus carefully placed the school books that he had just purchased into his bookbag as he walked out the door of Flourish and Blotts and into the light of the bustling Diagon Alley. He flipped through the pages of the one book left in his hand, looking forward to spending a little quality reading time at the ice cream shop down the street.  
  
The bookish boy pushed open the door of the ice cream parlor and shivered in the blast of cold air that hit him. It was a nice change from the summer heat that he had been surrounded in, and he smiled as he strode through the door and towards the counter.  
  
He was peering through the glass at the various flavors in their tubs when the doorbell jangled again. Sev glanced behind him to see another black- haired boy entering the store while shoving a bag from the local joke shop into his pocket. The new customer joined Severus at the glass, and they resumed the difficult task of choosing a flavor.  
  
"I recommend the raspberry chocolate chunk," the boy with the joke shop bag announced. Severus looked up and smiled a little.  
  
"Actually, I'm rather partial to the vanilla cashew crunch," her responded.  
  
"Hmm. . .some people have no taste," Sirius muttered good humoredly.  
  
"Like you and your joke store bag?" Sev queried innocently. The other boy laughed.  
  
"How about you and your book?" Siir retorted. Severus widened his eyes.  
  
"Please tell me that you aren't one of those who holds a grudge against anyone who's actually literate," the slightly shorter boy retorted indignantly.  
  
"Who, me?" Sirius asked. "Of course not. One scoop of raspberry chocolate chunk," he added, turning to the man behind the counter. "In a cone." The man nodded and turned to Sev.  
  
"And for you?"  
  
The shorter boy glanced impertinently at his impromptu companion. "A scoop of vanilla cashew crunch. In a cup."

----

Sidra: We don't really know what to say, but we're writing an authors' note anyway. 

Pyxis: Well, actually, I was going to say something along the lines of "I hope that you are enjoying our loverly bout of insanity thus far," and so on. But then that makes me sound all anal retentive and stuff, and not quite up to my usual insane standards.

Sidra: In that case. . . Carry on then. And all of those people reading out there had better review, or we will send Jose the flying squirrel after them.

Pyxis: I'm not sure they're in on that inside joke. It goes something like this: Jose the flying squirrel will decapitate your head. And it's funny, darn you!

Sidra: Yes! Laugh, darn you laugh!! (end insanity)

P.S. - we are not a schizophrenic. We are insane co-authors who think that it would be rather fun to be schizophrenic. Please carry on with your lives assured of this little fact. (attempt two: end insanity)


	3. A scarlet train and start of term jitter...

Remus hurriedly followed his mother through the bustling train station. So many people. . . so many Muggles! He had never seen crowds this big before, especially since his parents had moved far out into the country after he had developed his. . . condition. Behind him he heard various appreciative comments from the twins, who had insisted on coming along. His father, of course, was busy at work (the Lupin family was rather short on money these days), but had said his goodbyes that morning. Remus should have been reassured by his family's presence. . . should have.  
  
The tawny haired boy was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he barely acknowledged his passage through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4. After all, his parents had explained to him what to expect in great length. This did not prevent the nervous twist of his stomach as he saw the mass of students and their families swarming before the scarlet steam engine that they would later be boarding. It was really happening; it wasn't a dream. He would be spending the next seven years at Hogwarts!  
  
Seven years! Realization struck him and he froze where he stood. Could he really pretend for seven years? Even if he didn't get close to anyone, it was only a matter of time before someone put two and two together.  
  
"What's the big idea?" a girl's voice asked, and Remus forced his heart to start beating again.  
  
"Sorry, Artemis," he apologized to his younger sister. "Start of term jitters."  
  
"Now, Remus," his mother began, turning around to look him in the eye, "if you don't feel secure going to Hogwarts, it's perfectly alright with your father and me. You don't have to -"  
  
"I'm fine, Mum," he interrupted, meeting her gaze coolly. "Just a bit nervous. I dare say that everyone is. Except maybe Artemis and Apollo," he added with a small smile and a glance at the twins.  
  
"No, we're more afraid that you'll make a social wreck of yourself," Apollo agreed.  
  
"Apollo!" Mrs. Lupin scolded. "Now you -"  
  
"It's alright, Mum," Remus reassured her. "He's just teasing."  
  
"That's no excuse to -"  
  
"Mum." The single word, spoken with such force, cut her off abruptly. "I'm all right. I know it's difficult with me going away, but I need you to let me grow up."  
  
"Yes," Artemis agreed cheerily, twirling a golden brown braid. "We're the ones you're supposed to be babying."  
  
"Even if he is special," Apollo finished with a grin. Mrs. Lupin managed a small smile, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.  
  
"I'll try." Just then, a loud whistle sounded, and Remus jumped.  
  
"I'd better go," Remus told them apprehensively, allowing himself to be swept up in a teary embrace.  
  
"I'll miss you, sweetheart."  
  
"I'll miss you, too, Mum."  
  
"Bring us souvenirs!" Artemis suggested.  
  
"Forget souvenirs," Apollo put in, "just don't embarrass us."  
  
"I'll do my best," the tawny-haired boy laughed, and, taking a deep breath, boarded the train.  
  
Luckily, it didn't take him long to find an empty compartment; his social skills weren't the best, having had very few people to practice on other than his own family, and he doubted his ability to approach strangers so soon. But upon finding the vacant seats, relief washed over him. He had nothing to worry about yet. Contentedly he stowed his luggage - not before digging out a book - and settled in to read.  
  
He had gotten through about a half a page when the compartment door slid open. Remus felt his heart leap into his throat, but barely looked up as the two boys sat down across from him, chatting animatedly with each other and hardly acknowledging the presence of the boy in the other seat. They were perhaps a little older than him, with looks that weren't particularly outstanding and voices that were easy to ignore. Remus preferred it that way, but was pleased nonetheless when another boy came and beckoned them into another compartment for the remainder of the trip.  
  
The train had begun to move when the door slid open once more. This time a single boy stood in the doorway, looking awkward with his trunk still in tow. His slightly oily-looking black hair was cut to chin-length, and he had a rather prominent nose.  
  
"Is there room here? Everywhere else is full."  
  
The original occupant of the compartment nodded mutely. Much to his surprise, however, the "new" boy did not try to strike up a conversation as he had feared would be the case. Instead, the hook-nosed boy procured a book of his own and settled in on the seat opposite. Concealed by the book he was engrossed in, Remus smiled to himself. It would be a pleasant train ride.

----  
  
Glancing back over his shoulder from the lowest step on the train, Sirius waved goodbye one last time to his parents and younger brother. Mrs. Black looked up from her lively conversation with the mother of another Hogwarts student (who was doubtless of as old a family as the Black boys) and irritatedly waved him off with shooing motions. Her eldest son's mouth quirked in an ironic smile. He couldn't say he'd be missing her much. The black-haired boy turned towards the train and heaved his overloaded trunk up the stairs with a grunt of effort.  
  
Sirius wheeled his trunk down the aisle, looking for an open compartment, and ended up finding something nearly as good. About two doors down from the door he had entered by, he found the wild-haired boy he'd seen working at the joke shop on his latest trip to Diagon Alley. He figured that this would be as good a place as any to sit, and considerably better than most, and so he poked his head in the door and waved.  
  
"Hullo!" he greeted the other boy cheerily. "You seem to have a little more space than you can use here. Mind if I take some off your hands?"  
  
James looked up guiltily from a bag, hastily shoved behind his back, that he'd been rummaging through, and expressed his thoughts with an eloquent, "Huh?" He then saw the other boy standing in the door of his compartment and enlightenment dawned in his eyes.  
  
"Oh! Do you want to sit here? Sure."  
  
Sirius looked amused with the other boy's confusion. "I'm sorry, have I disturbed you?" he joked. "Oh, wait, you were already disturbed."  
  
James squinted at the longer-haired boy as if trying to place him. "You look somewhat familiar. Have I pranked you before?" James asked, cocking his head to one side.  
  
"Actually, no," Sirius responded, tucking his luggage carefully away. "But you've sold me quite a few."  
  
"Oh. Oh, yeah!" James smacked himself on the forehead. "Sorry. I'm not used to being up this early during the summer."  
  
"I wish I could say the same," the other boy ruefully replied. He yawned. "I definitely need a nap. You won't do anything too horrid to me while I'm asleep, will you, erm. . . What's your name?"  
  
"James," that boy responded. "And you're. . . ?"  
  
"Sirius. Sirius Black." And with that, he stretched out on the seat and closed his eyes.  
  
----

First off, a big huge fat thank you to those wonderful readers of ours who have been wonderful enough to give us REVIEWS (and happy ones at that)!!! It is you who actually makes us want to write more. You are our INSPIRATION!!!  
  
Anywho. Pyxis: Sidra farts loud and stinky. It is gross and is polluting my computer. Stupid li'l Sidra.

Sidra: SPOOT YOU!!! IT'S NOT MY FAULT! She lies.  
  
Pyxis: Now, why would I lie to the lovely readers? So as soon as we write more, we will try and post. And as soon as my computer area stops smelling like booty. Much love, and please review!

Sidra: You take pleasure out of my embarrassment. About something made up too.

Pyxis: Hahaha. And it's not made up.


	4. New arrivals and insidious plots

Disclaimers super suck, but we have to put one anyway. So we don't own the Harry Potter franchise; so what? I still own Sirius heart, body, and soul. . . And yes, Siddie, you can have Remus.

----

Lily walked off the train, smiling contentedly as she listened to the conversation between the girls she had shared a compartment with. Apparently they were discussing a game called Quidditch, and although she knew nothing of the sport, it sounded very interesting. However, as the girls stepped out into the night, a loud voice prevailed over the sound of milling students.  
  
"Firs' years over 'ere!" Nerves buzzing, the redhead searched the crowd for the source of the voice. This wasn't very difficult, as the large man towered far above the children disembarking from the train. Cautiously Lily made her way towards this man, as she saw others--presumably first years--doing, and continued as the group was led in a different direction than the upperclassmen were going. She made certain to stick close to one of her companions from the train, the only other that was a first year.  
  
The first years found themselves at the edge of a lake, which was lined with small-ish wooden boats. Lily noted curiously that these boats had neither oars, motors, nor sails. She had no time to wonder how they would be powered, however, before the herd of children was instructed to board them. She was careful not to rock her selection too much as she got in first, though her friend—Emeline, she recalled—was not so careful, and the pair experienced an unpleasant moment in which the boat nearly tipped over. After this, Lily was content to sit quite still and wait for something interesting to happen.  
  
Luckily this wait was not long; as soon as the last first year had settled in, the vessels began to move quietly across the water. Although she was burning with questions, the Muggle-born girl restrained herself from speaking. It was as if there was some sort of unspoken agreement for everyone to be silent; the loudest sound was that of waves lapping against the wood of the boats. So instead she cast her eyes ahead in the blackness, hoping to catch some glimpse of something. After all, why bother to take the first years in by the lake if not to make a grand entrance?  
  
A gasp went up from the children in front, and Lily strained her eyes even more. Suddenly, there it was a magnificent castle that could only be Hogwarts. Although she had seen pictures in textbooks and the like, none of them compared with this awesome first view. She felt her heart start to accelerate as she discovered that all of this was not some sort of practical joke after all.  
  
Finally the boats came to a halt at the opposite shore.  
  
"All righ' then, all o' yah', this way," the large man instructed, guiding them towards the castle. Now some of the students were talking again as they were instructed to wait in a huge entrance hall.  
  
"Really? That's amazing," a small (if rather pudgy) boy with watery eyes was saying to two others, both with black hair. "I wish I--"  
  
"Pettigrew," the one with glasses interrupted. Lily disliked his rude air, from messy black hair to the arrogant way that he carried himself. She didn't mean to listen in, but Emeline wasn't exactly the most exciting of company at the moment. "Leave us alone!"  
  
Lily made a disgusted noise and pushed her way to the front of the crowd to mask the nervousness that had just set in. When the inner door swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall, she was much relieved. Finally someone she knew!"  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts. In a few minutes, you will be brought in to the start of term feast. However, before you eat, you shall be sorted into your houses. Your house will be your family for the next seven years, with whom you shall room, eat, and go to classes. There are four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. While you attend Hogwarts, your accomplishments will earn you house points, while misbehavior will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup.  
  
"I believe that that covers everything, so if you will follow me the Sorting ceremony will take place shortly." The students obeyed and found themselves being led into a large dining hall, which Lily surmised (correctly) to be the Great Hall. Remembering something she had read, the soon-to-be witch glanced ceilingward, and was rewarded with a glorious view of the star-filled sky. Finding this sight much preferable to seeing the hundreds of faces staring at the group, she kept her head tilted slightly back. As a result, she nearly ran into the person in front of her when the group came to a stop.  
  
Calling her attention back to the hall, the girl noticed a stool placed in front of the student body, on top of which was a rather beaten-up hat. Much to her surprise, the hat moved. It split along one large tear, forming a sort of mouth, and began to sing.  
  
"Oh, you may think I'm ugly,

A ripped-up, battered hat,

An antique wizard relic,

But I'm much more than that.

"It is my job, upon each year,

To choose where you will go

I'll pick the place where you belong,

Where you'll most likely grow.

"The noble house of Gryffindor

Could be your eventual fate

If you are loyal, strong, and true-

A lion unafraid.

"Or perhaps to Hufflepuff you'll go,

The most diligent ones here

A more hard working group of friends

You won't find far or near

"Suppose that you are cunning

And love to use your wits;

Then Slytherin would be the place

Where you'd most likely fit.

"And last, not least, the Ravenclaws

Who're really rather clever

They're proud of their intelligence

And forfeit almost never

"So which of these fine houses

Will soon become your home?

Come sit up here and try me on

And I will make it known"  
  
This new development left Lily openly shocked. Of course she had known that the wizarding world would be different from the one she was used to, but only now had it become apparent exactly how different it would be. But before she could contemplate this revelation in depth, a student had been called to place the hat on his head. With great interest Lily observed the ritual sorting, and began to wonder exactly how the hat would decide where to place the first years. With every student called forward, her anticipation grow. Luckily, "Evans, Lily" is close to the front of the alphabet, and McGonagall soon read it from her list.  
  
Calmly, the hopeful witch made her way to the stool and placed the Hat over her head.  
  
"Let's see now. . ." a voice speculated, and Lily nearly jumped out of her skin before she realized that it was the hat speaking. "Very intelligent. . . a real desire to learn. . . You would do well in Ravenclaw, my dear. Hmm. . . But perhaps you'd do better in GRYFFINDOR!" The last word was projected for the rest of the Great Hall to hear, and the new Gryffindor walked towards her house's table with a small smile.  
  
----

Shivering beneath the usually warm sleeves of his long uniform robe, Severus glanced about the hall, taking in teachers, house tables, and the rest of the first years. He reasoned that the shivering was more from the nervousness of being stared at with such open anticipation, rather than from the actual temperature of the air. As it really made no difference, though, he settled his gaze on the students before him in the alphabet as they took their seats on the sorting hat's stool.  
  
"Black, Sirius," the boy from the ice cream parlor, was sorted into Gryffindor, as was his companion, "Potter, James." Severus supposed that his likely fate, given generations precedent, would probably be in Slytherin, though, like "Malfoy, Lucius" and "Pettigrew, Peter." Although, given the fluke that had happened to Dionyza. . . He shivered once more when his name was called, and then stepped forward to the stool. The hat slipped over his eyes and began to speak in a low voice.  
  
"Hmm, quite clever and cunning; perhaps Ravenclaw or Slytherin? Or maybe. . . Should we take a chance? You might do better in GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Severus was quite startled with this new development—what would his parents think? --and so he stumbled from the stool dazedly towards the cheering red- and-gold trimmed table. He took a seat next to his companion from the train (Lupin, Remus), who smiled at him welcomingly. As the realization sunk slowly in, the hook-nosed boy glanced at Remus a little more steadily and, as his head began to clear, he returned the boy's smile.  
  
He had always known that he wasn't like his parents. This, he supposed, was just proof. He was just beginning to pay attention to the conversation around him when it died off and the headmaster, Dumbledore, stepped forward to speak.  
  
"There are a few things to be said before our brains are emptied by full plates. First, to all new students, welcome. Remember, please, not to go into the Forest on the grounds, as it is off limits to students. Second, I would like all students to be aware of a certain new tree on the grounds. The 'Whomping Willow,' which is located near our groundskeeper Hagrid's home is best left alone. I quite think that the name says enough." The children alternatedly looked puzzled and laughed. Severus noted that Remus shifted uneasily and that the other boy's laughter seemed somehow strained.  
  
"Now that all of that business is taken care of, I invite you all to enjoy the rest of the term, as well as the lovely feast that has been prepared for us." Dumbledore clapped his hands once, and the previously empty dishes on the table filled suddenly. Severus inhaled deeply, suddenly realizing how hungry he was, and began to fill his plate.  
  
----

James was having a ball. Part of his joy came from the fact that he had been sorted into the house that he had been hoping for, as had the closest thing he had to a friend at this moment. Most of it, however, was because there was so much food and no one to make him eat his vegetables.  
  
He tore into the magnificent feast with gusto, consuming just about everything that didn't resemble a plant. Sirius, sitting next to him, was doing much the same, so he didn't worry about making conversation. There would be plenty of time for that later, after all.  
  
But all to soon the pre-teen's enormous appetite was satiated, and he became horribly, awfully, inescapably bored. And when James got bored, trouble always followed.  
  
At first all he did was draw pictures in his mashed potatoes. However, with no one to properly admire his artistic streak, this form of amusement bit the dust. It was at this point that he began to brainstorm. And came up with an idea.  
  
"Hey Sirius," he started, tapping his buddy on the shoulder. Sirius turned, but in the process forgot the presence of his plate, which launched into the bespectacled boy's face.  
  
"Oh, sorry," he exclaimed. "I hadn't meant to do that." James grinned, but continued wiping gravy off his face.  
  
"It's alright. I can work with this." He dismissed the issue as if nothing had happened. "Watch and learn." The messy-haired boy reached into his robes and withdrew a small book, leafing immediately to the desired page. Sirius leaned over to study the contents, then looked up and met James's eyes with an impish smile to match his friend's. The book's owner glanced pointedly towards the Slytherin table and turned back to face the other boy, realizing as he did so that his companion had looked in the same direction, if not at the same person. Both's smiles broadened slightly as they came to a silent accord.  
  
"So how do you propose we do this without getting caught?" Sirius inquired.  
  
"Trust me, I know ways," was the reply. "I have experience."  
  
"But we've got to time this just right. Otherwise it'll be a waste."  
  
"Does that mean we can't do it now?" James whined. Pranking was all well and good, but he was bored now. What was the point unless to amuse him in his time of need? No, better to get the thing over with.  
  
"Would you rather wait 'til later and have it actually worthwhile, or get it over with and have it make only half the impact it could?"  
  
"Well. . ."  
  
Sirius had managed to convince James to plan the prank out thoroughly before going through with it, although James wasn't completely sure about the issue. On the other hand, the whole plot had given him something to converse about, so besides the initial objections, he wasn't going to complain. In fact, the pair of boys was still discussing the matter as they were herded off to their dormitories, and, consequently, their beds.  
  
James took note of his other five room-mates as he settled into his bed. They had formed their own "cliques" as well, although it was impossible to tell whether these would be temporary or permanent. Two of the boys seemed rather bookish, as they were quietly discussing some tome James had never even heard of. The other three appeared to be interested in Quidditch, as that was what they were debating. The run-of-the-mill jock-type, or close enough.  
  
"Normal," was James's last thought before drifting off. "Every last one of them is so disgustingly normal."  
  
----

Pyxis: I'm so sorry we haven't posted in so long. Blame it on the Sorting Song. We decided to write a real one instead of the cop out that we usually manage to do. So it took a couple attempts. The original one, when we were quite frustrated with writing the darn song, went something like this:  
  
Oh, I'm an evil hat And I have lots of holes I don't want to sort you, But I have to anyway. Darn you stupid students!!  
  
Sidra: Very lovely poetry, isn't it? And if you're wondering about Dionyza, don't worry. She'll be showing up in later chapters, and we think you'll like her.  
  
Pyxis: Ah, yes. Well, that's all for now. Oh, wait, did anyone catch my blatantly-stolen-from-"Pirates of the Caribbean" line last chapter? Just wondering.

----

September update by Pyx: So sorry about the huge break! I've just moved off to school, and the craziness surrounding said departure has been horrendous. Have no fear, dear readers, we have not forgotten you. Chapter 5 is in the works. We'll try to keep you posted.


	5. The start of classes and forming allianc...

Remus was surprised to find that he was the first on in his dormitory to wake up. Normally around this time of month he would be sleeping rather late to catch up on what he had been and would be missing... but then again, he normally wouldn't be at school.   
  
Still, what with six room-mates, the silence was a bit eerie, especially given the commotion that they had been making last night. It would take some getting used to, being around so many people he didn't know.  
  
The tawny-haired boy studied the sleeping faces around him. In the bed to his right rested the boy with whom he had spent much of the previous evening: Severus Snape. The other boy had seemed rather unsure of himself last night, and Remus vaguely wondered what had caused this before moving on to the next boy. Of the three Quidditch lovers, his had been the only name Remus had caught—Frank Longbottom. The group seemed to have high hopes for the next year, and the waking boy envied them their confidence.  
  
Hardly had he set eyes on the two remaining first year boys than an alarm sounded from someone's bedside table. Remus jumped, then hurried to get his things together before the others became fully awake. He needed a shower, and had no desire for any of the others to see that state of his body on the first day of classes.   
  
He was in luck though; by the time he stopped by the dorm to pick up his books, few of his fellows were fully dressed, and just one of them—Severus—looked ready to head to breakfast. In fact, two boys, James and Sirius, had hardly moved from the position that they had been in when the alarm clock had sounded. Remus smiled knowingly, and on his way out he paused between the two beds.   
  
"I don't blame you for wanting to sleep more," he told them quietly, "but if you don't hurry you'll miss breakfast."   
  
James sat bolt upright. "Did somebody say breakfast?" he inquired, looking much more awake already. Remus's smile widened ever so slightly.  
  
"Of course he did," Sirius informed him, stretching languidly as he spoke. "Thanks to your little plot, we've nearly slept through it."  
  
"You're the one who insisted on waiting," the messy-haired boy protested before turning to Remus. "Thanks, mate. We shall forever be grateful for your selfless act of kindness."  
  
Mumbling something along the lines of "you're welcome," the young scholar continued on his way to the Great Hall. This would have proved difficult had he and his fellow bookworm not been ready in time to follow a group of upperclassmen to their meal, but luckily they were. In fact, they were the only first-years present for ten minutes or so.  
  
"It appears out classmates have gotten lost," Severus had commented when Remus noticed this fact aloud. James and Sirius, unsurprisingly, were the last ones to the table, but more than made up for this by digging in with a vengeance.  
  
When the post came, Remus hardly expected to get any mail himself. Much to his delight, though, a letter rich with the latest from the twins and much concern from his parents (but mostly his mother) was dropped in front of him. After skimming its contents, he set it aside and found himself being studied by a pair of dark eyes.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, noting Severus's odd expression.  
  
"Why wouldn't I be?" was the somewhat sharp response. The tawny-haired boy decided to drop the subject, if there really was one, and continued picking at his food.  
  
The remainder of breakfast he spent listening to conversations about the day's classes and what to expect, occasionally putting forth questions of his own. From what he gathered, most of the teachers were strict taskmasters (although Professor Binns was just plain boring) and would accept no excuses for misbehavior or late assignments. The more he heard, the tighter the knot of tension in his gut grew. Would they treat him differently? Would they think him a monster? Questions pounded through his brain until he began to feel queasy, and the sight of so much food did not help matters in the slightest. By the time students began leaving the table, however, he had reached one strong resolution: he would give them no reason whatsoever not to treat him like an average student, absences or not.  
  
Their first class that morning was Transfiguration. Miraculously, no one got too terribly lost, so most, in fact, were on time. This lesson went more or less without incident, although Remus disliked the way Professor McGonagall hesitated at his name while taking roll.  
  
The students' task that morning was to transfigure a piece of straw into a needle. The moment that the class was told to try the spell independently, Remus set to work, following all of the instructions to the letter. The straw on his desk remained unchanged for the most part. He furrowed his eyebrows and began the process again, searching for some step or syllable he had missed.  
  
A ruckus in another part of the room distracted the studious boy's attention from his work. He looked up as the professor made her way in that direction.  
  
"Very good Potter. Five points to Gryffindor." The middle-aged woman was interrupted by an indignant noise from Sirius, who was sitting in a desk next to James. "Yours could use work, Black. Note that the needle is blunt and still hollow."   
  
Remus glanced at the desks around him. Most of his peers had only managed small changes in their straws, and several had turned theirs to a silvery color, but James appeared to be the only one to completely transfigure his piece. With this new motivation, the quieter boy once more tried the spell, this time resulting in a flawlessly formed steel needle.  
  
No one noticed his victory.  
  
He left Transfiguration satisfied that at the very least he had performed the spell accurately on the second try. Still, he was looking forward to History of Magic, despite the thrill of getting spells right. This, after all, was one of the very few subjects he could (and had) study on his own, and James's accomplishment had left him wishing slightly to show off just a bit.  
  
Alas, this was not to be. Remus's hopes were dashed the moment the extremely elderly Professor Binns started his lecture. This professor had a terribly dull voice, and went about teaching as though he didn't care whether or not the speech was being listened to. The very determined young wizard tried to take notes at first, then realized that almost everything Binns was saying was from the textbook, and he knew most of it by heart besides. Why should he waste time with notes when he could just read the book?  
  
That lesson set the tradition for just about all of the History of Magic lessons to come. Most of the students tried desperately to stay awake, but dozed off anyway. Some decided to follow different agendas and ended up passing notes or doodling. But all agreed that no class yet to come could possibly be as boring as the last one as they left the classroom.  
  
Remus went to lunch wondering if the rest of their classes would be like the first two. Because if they were, life at Hogwarts would be much easier than he had expected.  
  
- - -  
  
Lily's amazement with the wizarding world was beginning to wear off slightly by the time that lunch began. Students still grumbled about their teachers, fell asleep in class, and formed alliances that would doubtless be broken before the end of another two or three terms. And Professor Binns rambled endlessly on just like a teacher that Lily remembered having a few years ago.  
  
Little things continued to surprise her, though, like the way the portraits hung (or, she rather thought, strewn) haphazardly about the castle moved and chatted easily with passers-by, or the way upperclassmen in the common room the night before would, when in need of more light, simply say something to their wands, which would then light up, rather than adjusting a lamp or sitting closer to one. And the way the food had simply appeared on the tables for the last three meals still managed to surprise her every time.  
  
Lily took her seat on the nearest of the Gryffindor benches after the most recent such appearance and began to fill her plate. Wizarding food seemed to taste so much better than anything Lily had eaten at home, although a rational part of her mind told her that this was simply due to the novelty of it. The meal was interrupted, however, (at least for those who, like Lily, were seated near the doors), by the arrival of a noisy conversation being held by three or four of the Slytherin boys entering the hall.  
  
"Pettigrew, you leech, get away from me! Who gave you permission to follow me?" A boy with an impeccably smooth blond pony-tail drawled disdainfully. The boy following him, a short, plump, rat-like boy, looked utterly crushed.  
  
"B-b-but Lucius," he—Pettigrew, Lily supposed—whimpered. Lucius gave a deep, frustrated sigh, stopped, and turned around to fact the other boy.  
  
"Look, Pettigrew," the boy began. Lily lost track of their conversation as they were swept away towards the Slytherin table by a herd of first years, who had finally made their way to the Great Hall. Lily supposed that this Pettigrew person must really be troublesome to have been shunned by two groups within one day of their arrival at Hogwarts. She rather felt sorry for the boy, but shrugged it off. He would find his place sooner or later, doubtless.  
  
Lily turned back to her lunch with a sigh. At least here, she was finally free of the burdensome Petunia...And with that content thought she began to eat her lunch.

- - -

'The first day, and already I'm wondering how much longer until classes end,' thought Sirius. 'Now, that can't be a good sign...' He couldn't help the sigh that that thought brought with it as he approached the lower levels of the castle for the afternoon's lesson in Potions. Perhaps, miracle of miracles, _this_ class would actually be interesting. Unlike History of Magic. Sirius shuddered even to _remember_ that one, and chose not to dwell on such unpleasant memories. Or on the fact that he could look forward to 7 years of such lessons.

When he finally reached the right classroom (or rather, dungeon), Sirius took a seat next to James, who had arrived early and taken advantage of the extra time to sneak in a bit of a nap. Sirius noticed distastefully that there was a trail of drool on the other boy's sleeve where his head was resting. Seeking a more pleasant location to focus his attention, his eyes swept across the room, taking inventory of his classmates. A few girls, clumped around a cauldron and glancing nervously about between giggles. Some boys heatedly discussing a recent Quidditch match and its possible effects on the outcome of an upcoming one. And there was that boy from the ice cream shop... Sirius couldn't have thought of the boy's name to save his life, but he seemed to be discussing something that he found fascinating with the boy next to him, the one who had been so kind as to awaken Sirius and James that morning.

Sirius was thinking of going to see what their conversation was about when the Potions professor entered the room. She was a short little witch with a stern face and hip-length auburn hair, and she introduced herself as Professor Licandro. It soon became apparent that this abrupt witch would tolerate no nonsense anywhere near her class, which made Sirius and the now-awake James glance at one another in disgust. It looked as though they were doomed to another class full of notes and (the dreaded L-word) learning. Then James winked. They would find a way to liven up the course hours soon enough.

After 2 hours of strenuous note-taking, the class finally ended. Sirius and James both shot up out of their seats the moment they were dismissed as if they had springs under their behinds, and fairly raced out into the hallway.

"Cripes, it was cold as anything in there!" James complained loudly. Sirius nodded his agreement while rubbing his arms to get rid of the copious goose bumps that had appeared on them.

"I'm all for going outside and exploring a bit," Sirius suggested. "After all, it's another few hours at least until dinner." James quickly agreed to this plan, all for enjoying the last of the early fall's warm air. Besides, this would help the pair to get an idea of the possible shape that their future pranks could take.

The pair of tricksters wandered the grounds, pointing out items of the landscape that might come in handy: a particularly large boulder, an unexpected bend in the castle's wall. They were intrigued by the Forbidden Forest, and dared one another to go in, but neither went further than a few trees in. They both wondered about the dangers that could quite easily be lurking just out of sight, and so did not venture further than their pride deemed necessary.

The boys soon tired of their game of dares, and so they decided to continue their explorations.

"Look at that." Sirius pointed an incredibly large tree out to his companion. "I wonder why there are no other trees nearby?"

"It looks like it hasn't been there that long," James observed. "See? The dirt around its base is still bare. No fallen leaves or stuff like that."

"I wonder why it has all those gouges out of its bark," Sirius pondered.

"That's the Whomping Willow," A gentle voice (which nonetheless almost made the boys jump out of their pants) behind them remarked. Sirius and James turned to see who had managed to sneak up on _them_, the kings of surprises.

"Remus Lupin," the golden-haired boy informed them. He seemed to be smirking happily a little at the trick he'd managed to play on the two of them, although it quickly changed to a pleased-to-meet-you smile as he extended his hand first to Sirius, then James, who introduced themselves in turn.

"I have to say, I didn't think anybody could sneak up on me like that," James told Lupin, looking more than a little impressed. Lupin shrugged, and then glanced at the sky, looking as though he were trying to figure something out.

"Almost time for supper," he commented mildly after a few moments. "Maybe we should go inside."

"An excellent plan," Sirius agreed, then glanced about, looking a little lost. "Now, who knows how to get to the Great Hall from here?

- - -

Pyxis: I apologize a hundred thousand times for taking so long to get this chapter done. Thanks for those of you who have waited for it.

Sidra: It was all her fault, you know. I had nothing to do with it.

Pyxis: Yes. Now don't rub it in, Siddie.

Sidra: in sing-song voice It's all your fault, it's all your fault...

Pyxis: Don't make me come over there and beat you!

Sidra: It would take you 3 hours to get here. I have time to run.

Pyxis: You suck, you know that, don't you?

Sidra: No, you suck!

Pyxis: Yep. I suck juice boxes!

Sidra: And now back to the regularly scheduled end of your chapter...


End file.
